


Candlelight

by chaineddove



Category: Loveless
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-22
Updated: 2006-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaineddove/pseuds/chaineddove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rainstorm, a power outage, and a candle; Ritsu-sensei seems bound and determined to make <i>Beloved</i> closer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Candlelight

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place shortly after Seimei has been presented with his new Fighter.

If one was the puppet master, one could afford illusions of romance. Soubi looked back at him from across the table, silently, unblinkingly. Candlelight flickered across his face, shadows pooling in the hollows of his cheeks and around his eyes. The dancing light brought out surprising sparks of gold in his shaggy hair. Seimei liked watching the light caressing Soubi’s features, but of course, he knew this was all a beautiful illusion. Soubi knew, too.

Sensei had said they must try to become closer. If he was alone with Soubi in a dark room, listening to rain pounding on the windows, it was only because Sensei wasn’t pleased with their synchronization in battle. Seimei’s ears twitched. He wondered if Sensei had arranged the thunderstorm and the power outage that had left them with a single dripping candle and no way to get home without becoming drenched.

Probably.

_“Soubi is the best Fighter I have ever produced. He is yours, Beloved. Do not waste his talents.”_

Whether or not they loved each other didn’t matter. Because they were _Beloved_ , Seimei had to pretend. But once they were alone, it didn’t matter. Only Soubi was hurt when he shattered the illusion of romance, and Soubi’s pain was unimportant. “Stop staring at me,” he said irritably, his ears twitching again under Soubi’s unwavering scrutiny.

The candlelight smoothed over messily cut hair. If Soubi had still had his ears, Seimei thought they would be flattened against his head. But he didn’t, of course. They were the strangest pair here: one with ears, the other without. Everyone could see they were a lie. _“Let him take yours,”_ Sensei had suggested when Seimei had complained. _“I assure you, he’s been well-prepared for you.”_ Seimei had barely refrained from covering his own ears protectively with his hands. Someone like Soubi would never have them.

“I’m sorry.” Soubi lowered his eyes. Everything about him was scruffed, used, dull. Those eyes, though… Seimei had almost felt something, the first time he had seen them. Brighter than anything about this boy had any right to be, they had fastened on him as though he was the answer to every prayer. After he had remembered how to breathe, he had decided it made him uncomfortable.

“I allowed you to be harmed in the last battle,” Soubi said suddenly, his voice devoid of any emotion. Sometimes Seimei thought he knew what his Fighter was feeling. Not usually, though. In making him a perfect tool, Sensei had removed the emotions along with the ears and tail.

Any other Sacrifice would have protested that it was his job to take the damage. Seimei said, “You were a mess.” Soubi raised his lowered eyes, and Seimei found himself trapped by that burning gaze again. He shifted his weight, wishing he could hide his discomfort. Thunder crashed outside. “I told you to stop staring at me.”

“I’m memorizing the way your face looks in this light,” Soubi said. “It softens your features. You’re beautiful.”

“I wish this storm would end and I could go home,” Seimei replied.

“If I could take the damage for you, I would.”

Seimei ran a hand over the healing cut on his face, gained in their last spell battle. “Then we would really be the talk of the school. A Fighter who does his Sacrifice’s job for him,” Seimei mocked.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” Soubi said quietly. His hands, folded in his lap until now, reached for Seimei’s face. Seimei recoiled.

“Don’t touch me.”

Soubi’s hands stopped at the order, but there was something like reproach in his eyes. “If our bond is not deepened, you may die next time.”

“You’re a liar, Soubi,” Seimei told him. “You just want to get your dirty hands on me. Tell the truth,” he demanded. “Now.”

“I’ve wanted you since the moment you first walked in the door,” Soubi said. If he was uncomfortable with that statement, he didn’t show it. Seimei could feel his tail bristling at the proclamation.

“You’re not allowed to touch me.”

For just a moment, Soubi’s burning eyes looked completely devastated. It was the strongest emotion Seimei had ever seen him exhibit, and he found himself feeling the unfamiliar stirrings of guilt. It wasn’t as if he was whipping him, like Sensei had done. They were just words.

Here, he had learned that words could rend flesh and break bones.

“I won’t, if you tell me not to,” Soubi said, and there was a hint of resignation about it, but he was no longer looking like a kicked puppy. He probably liked the pain, Seimei thought, disgusted with himself.

“But you want to?” he insisted.

“Always,” Soubi told him. “I imagine touching just… there. Stroking over your face, like the candlelight is doing, running my hands through your hair, tasting your skin, exploring all those shadows.”

His voice had something hypnotic about it. Seimei realized he was leaning forward, mesmerized. “Stop it,” he said, knowing he was falling under some strange spell. It had to be the candlelight. Soubi’s eyes burned. “I don’t love you,” he said, his final and greatest weapon.

“But I love you,” Soubi said. Because Seimei had learned the power of words, he felt this as surely as the imprint that marked his skin. _Beloved._

“Since the moment I walked in the door; I know,” he said. Giving in to the sudden urge, he reached across the table himself. Soubi’s hair was soft, the sparks of gold extinguished under his fingers. He smiled with his power even as Soubi looked at him inquisitively. He wondered what was in Soubi’s mind. How would his touch feel, if he were to allow it? “Come here,” he said. “Just this once, I’ll feed your craving.”

“You want me to touch you?” Soubi asked, uncertain.

“I told you to come here. If you don’t obey as you should, I might change my mind.” Soubi came and stood over him. Surprisingly gentle hands cupped his face. Seimei closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “You may be brave now, since I’m feeling generous,” he murmured. The candlelight flickered against his closed eyelids and the sound of rain whispered in his ears. False trappings of false romance, he knew, but his heart sped up. Sometimes, pretending had to be enough.

Soubi’s hair tickled his cheek as the Fighter leaned down to kiss him. Seimei allowed his lips to part compliantly, letting Soubi have his way for once. The Fighter was gentler than he would have imagined, his lips soft. He was surprised — gentleness didn’t seem to be the sort of thing Sensei instilled in his toys. Maybe it was innate. This wasn’t so bad. Maybe he could allow this, sometimes. If their bond deepened, they would be unstoppable.

Soubi’s hands ghosted through his hair and Seimei smiled into the kiss.


End file.
